That I Leaned Upon a Reed
by Lorth Needa
Summary: A happy little lemon set at the end of "After Hours." Hilson one-shot, because that's the happening boat. :) I seek neither profits nor prophets and own nothing but an abashed blush.


**That I Leaned Upon a Reed**

"I have to pee," House announced, and Wilson went to help his friend into a wheelchair to cross the room. House, in his usual brusque manner, brushed off Wilson's help and tried to stand on his own. Anger swelled in Wilson's chest. Pride would kill House if the womanizing, drinking, drugs, or generally being an ass didn't do it first.

House grimaced as he fell, and Wilson caught him. Tucking an arm up under House to support him, Wilson looked just the slightest bit up and met House's cynical blue eyes.

They were so close. Wilson's eyes strayed to House's lips, and his own tingled. In fact, his whole body tingled. His heart beat faster, his eyes dilated, his... he wrenched his eyes back to House's. House was saying something, it was probably important, but...

Wilson answered House, but he wasn't sure what he answered or what he said. He was too busy being grateful for the pleats in his chinos. He looked away, and thought about taking another step toward the bathroom, but House stopped him. Wilson looked back into House's eyes, meeting blue eyes as aroused as his own brown eyes.

Wilson's heart hammered in his chest. This couldn't be happening. He opened his mouth to say something, but House had closed the short distance between their lips, and Wilson's soft lips were being caressed by a pair of rough, chapped lips. House's lips.

Wilson's eyes grew wider and he nearly pulled back, but he pushed aside his disbelief and leaned in. He moved his lips back over House's, brushing their noses together, and House's tongue flicked up and caught Wilson's teeth. Wilson's mouth was open, he was panting, he felt himself get harder and squirmed uncomfortably, aware that he was all that kept House from collapsing onto the floor, or if he aimed right, back onto the hospital bed.

Wilson, trapped and growing uncomfortable, concentrated on the sensation of House's lips on his own, of House's tongue flicking into his mouth and of his utter inability to do anything coherent in return.

His mind was racing in time with his heart. He was kissing House. No, better yet, House was kissing him. And it was fucking wonderful.

House stopped, pulled back, and Wilson's heart fell. House had been playing with him, joking around to get a rise out of him, and Wilson had fallen for it. A sly grin spread across Wilson's face, and his blush of arousal turned to furious embarrassment.

"Soooo..." House drawled, clearly enjoying himself. "This is gay, from the Greek for oh my god, that's amazing."

Wilson's heart nearly stopped. "I," he started, but House placed his left index finger over Wilson's lip and began to feel their soft fullness.

"So, Dr. Wilson, are you telling me that for twenty years I've been leaning on a reed no stronger than myself?" House smiled again, and winked.

"Faulkner," Wilson replied, his breath fast and shallow.

"Put me down," House commanded, and Wilson lowered his friend into a sitting position on the bed. He then grabbed Wilson's tie and pulled. Wilson, heart beating frantically, mouth dry, briefs very full, pinwheeled, but House tugged harder and Wilson fell on top of him.

"House, everyone can see us," Wilson said, his chest tightening at the thought, but House grinned roguishly up at him without a care in the world.

"Let them see."

Wilson felt the trembling in his arms and legs as he looked down into House's face. It was vulnerable, something that didn't happen that often, but it was filled with the playful fun Wilson remembered from before the crane crash in Trenton.

Wilson became acutely aware of his cock pressing against House's leg as House pulled harder on Wilson's tie. Wilson felt his muscles give way, and suddenly he was straddling House, his lips were once more on House's, and House's tongue was in his mouth, then running along the shell of his ear, down to his neck, and House was nipping at his throat, frustrated by Wilson's collar and tie.

Wilson, in shock, watch House reach up and undo his tie. House would throw it on the ground, but dammit it was a nice tie. Wilson took it from House and placed it next to the pillows on the inclined bed. Wilson liked the tickly, scratchy feel of House's cheeks and neck against his own. He leaned in to kiss House, but House stopped him.

Wilson, hurt, pulled back, but House grinned his fox's grin and reached back, taking hold of Wilson's occipital region, winding his fingers through Wilson's hair, and pulled him closer. Wilson wanted House to kiss him again, but House pulled Wilson's ear close to his mouth, and breathed slowly.

"Fuck me," he whispered lustily, and Wilson felt his stomach clench with the wave of heat it conducted to his scrotum and painfully erect penis.

"I can't," Wilson told House, his brain on overdrive. "I'll hurt you; you'll rip a stitch or..."

"Correction," House cut him off. "I will fuck you. Just shut up." House pushed Wilson back and reached for a bottle of medical lubricant in the drawer by the bed. Wilson wondered for a moment why they would have that in the ICU, but then House grabbed hold of his crotch and wrenched his attention back to the warmth that suffused his cheeks and all his most intimate places.

Wilson moved forward as House pulled Wilson's balls to him through Wilson's pants. Wilson's mind was on fire. He knelt above House's face, supporting himself on arms that trembled. He heard the sounds of House's hands sliding lube all over them. The wet friction sounds made Wilson think of what else they might apply friction to and his vision went dim for a second.

He felt his zipper start to slide open, oh-so-very-slowly tickling his cock through the fabric of his briefs, and he looked down. House was opening his zipper with his teeth. Wilson's hips bucked, and he House laughed into Wilson's crotch.

"Feeling eager?" he taunted. "Not afraid I'll pull a stitch anymore?"

"Oh," Wilson gasped, and looked down solicitously, once again worried about just that. He felt his arousal dim, and House licked him through his briefs, brightening up that perky appendage once more. Wilson could feel a wet spot growing on his underwear and was worried, for some reason, that House would notice.

House, however, was busy trying to undo Wilson's belt with his mouth, which was doing things to Wilson he had never before imagined. He was impressed with House's oral dexterity, which, he admitted to himself, boded well for things to come. To have House's hot, wet mouth, his scratchy chin, his softer lips, all over Wilson's most private places made him pant. He had to close his eyes and focus on the trembling in his arms to keep himself sane.

And then House's tongue was caressing his balls. He didn't know what had happened to his underwear, but he decided not to dwell on that. After all it wasn't every day House decided to fuck him in the hospital. Or at all. Or ever.

House took Wilson's entire scrotum in his mouth and held it there, hot saliva coating the skin, driving Wilson mad with desire, and then House gave a single suck and released them, the cold air hitting them and making Wilson's abdominal muscles spasm, which sent his leaking prick into House's thinning hair.

Wilson, in a daze of pleasure and torturous desire, felt House move his head out from under Wilson, through his legs, and Wilson almost thought House might just leave, but he remembered House currently couldn't walk, and then he felt something closely resembling a tongue against the ring of muscle between his ass cheeks. He let out a little cry and felt once more the incredible feeling of House chuckling against a body part suffuse with blood and tingling with anticipation.

The tongue flicked and circled around the ring of Wilson's anus and then House's mouth was against it, humming. Wilson's mind strayed to the germs that House was taking in, then rationalized that House was on antibiotics for the wound in his leg, and that would take care of anything his picked up down there.

Then Wilson felt a finger, slick with lube, tease its way into his ass and move ever so gently at the opening. Wilson was surprised House was taking it so slowly and gently, but he was grateful, for as many times as he had seen this happen to him in his most private fantasies, he still was not used to it.

He relaxed, felt House ease in some more, and reach around to grasp Wilson's dripping, throbbing, needy cock with the other hand. As he eased another finger into Wilson's rectum, House caressed the circumcision scar on Wilson's penis.

Within a few pumps, House had established a rhythm that took Wilson's mind off the pain in his asshole and made his concentrate instead on not bucking his hips so much he dislodged House entirely.

Wilson closed his eyes and bit his lips, wanting so much for this to never end, trying not to make any sound that might alert someone to what was going on in House's room, but failing entirely to contain every grunt and soft little cry and moan.

Then he felt the hot, lube-slicked hardness of House slide into him and he gasped, his arms buckling, failing to hold him up in the face of such exquisite agony. He felt House laugh again, and the rhythm of friction and pressure on his cock eased and changed to gentle tugs and rubs of the thumb.

And then House was buried inside him. Wilson could feel the thick curls around the base of House's cock tickle the ring of muscle it was buried inside.

Wilson felt his anus contract abruptly at the thought of what House's cock was brushing up in there. He had hardly had the time to do any sort of high colonics before House had been injured, and he'd rushed here and then House had had his cock inside Wilson's ass, fucking him tenderly but mercilessly just as Wilson had always imagined...

"Relax," House breathed, sounding like he was in some of the same pain that Wilson was in from having had his asshole contract so suddenly around suck a length of cock as House had shoved up inside Wilson's butt. Wilson made himself relax and felt his neglected cock twitch again, asking for some of the love and attention Wilson's ass was getting.

House smiled and reached around, pressing Wilson under his scrotum and making Wilson's balls retract into his abdomen in agonizing pleasure. Wilson longed to reach down and take his cock in his hand and pump as he had so many times before when he had imagined this taking place. He stopped himself, but House, licking Wilson's back and sliding in and out of Wilson's ass gently and torturously, reached around and began to touch Wilson's throbbing purple hardness in the same comforting, familiar patterns that Wilson did when he masturbated.

Wilson groaned in the knowledge that House must have watched him do this to himself enough times to know every pattern and nuance like this, to have it perfectly the way Wilson liked it. House's hand slid up and down, pumped a few times, circled the tip, slid back down, touched the scrotal sack, twisted back up along the length, stopping just short of the head of Wilson's penis, and then holding it tight while Wilson spasmed and splashed himself all over the sheets beneath him.

When Wilson was done, House pressed himself into Wilson once more, as deep as he could sheath himself, and, tenderly caressing Wilson's back, came with a great hot spasm of fluid into Wilson's ass.

Wilson felt tears leak down his cheeks as his stomach muscles tensed at the feeling of House's hot, sticky semen lubricating the journey of House's long, thick shaft out of Wilson's asshole.

"God, Wilson, you are such a girl," House said. "It's not like I'll never walk again. You can call a nurse if it's such an ordeal to help me piss in the toilet."

That conjured up provocative thoughts about wetness that Wilson did not want to dwell on, but then his brain cleared and he recognised the tone was not one that might be making fun of him in a post-orgasm haze like had hoped.

His brain swam back up out of his cock to his head and he looked House in the eye as he held his friend up on trembling knees.

"If I'm too heavy for you, I understand, but there's no need to _cry_ for God's sake."

Wilson shook his head, made some comment he didn't remember even as it slipped past his lips, and helped his friend into the bathroom, grateful that House was in too much pain to make fun of the uncomfortable bulge in Wilson's pants.


End file.
